November Rain
by rukichu
Summary: "He was starting to think that maybe the beating and the dumpster toss would have been better than the verbal warfare that just went down in the Hummel House." After the events of "Theatricality", Kurt finds comfort in someone unexpected. Spoilers
1. Chapter 1

His dad s footsteps echoed as each of his boots hit every stair. Heavy._ Burdened_. He sank slowly down to the couch, not trusting his legs to keep him standing. Kurt had thought Finn was his friend, at the very least. He d been telling himself for quite a while now that Prince Charming Finn Hudson could never-and would never-be his. But he d thought his crush on Finn was safe. That Finn cared just enough about Kurt to not beat him to a pulp and leave him in a dumpster if the jock were to ever realize Kurt s feelings. Apparently he thought wrong. He was starting to think that maybe the beating and the dumpster toss would have been better than the verbal warfare that just went down in the Hummel House.

Fag was not a new word to Kurt. He d been hearing it directed towards him since he could remember. Used countless times by moronic neanderthals who had the vocabulary range of a toddler. He d gotten seemingly endless amounts of phone calls using the word again and again and again. But never he the barbs been thrown by someone Kurt thought was a friend. And he really never expected it to be Finn. Hell, even Noah Puckerman didn't use the word around Kurt anymore.

Kurt felt his chest tighten and had to force himself to swallow a sob. He d only been trying to make things better. If Finn could never be his boyfriend, couldn't he at least be a really, really good friend? But they d just fought. Stupid arguments over one stupid thing after another and he just wanted to make it better. He changed his room-his immaculate Dior Gray _room_-for Finn. But it wasn t enough. He would always be the creepy gay kid. Better watch out or you ll catch his gay! Don t change in front of him, he won t take no for an answer!

Kurt let out a shuddering sob and squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something good for everyone. He was always messing up things. He hadn't even been the one to suggest Finn and Carole move in. But Finn was acting like it was all some crazy plan Kurt had come up with to get into Finn's pants. And, okay, maybe it had started out as something kind of like that, but he d more or less given up on all that. He just thought maybe... maybe Finn would even help keep him from getting pushed around by jocks all the time. But when he d asked Finn, he d basically just told Kurt it was all his own damn fault. Everyone thought it was his fault.

Kurt stared around the room. He d worked so damn hard on it, and he was so proud of it. He thought Finn would at least appreciate the gesture. But who was he kidding? It was a stupid idea. It was a stupid waste. He scowled at the room as if it were to blame. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted his mom.

Burt Hummel was not perfect. He knew this. He d known it most of his life, but really felt it after his wife passed away, leaving him alone with their little boy who was already so much like his mother. She was always better at helping Kurt, always knew exactly what he needed. She would have known exactly what to Kurt needed to hear after what just happened.

It wasn't just the word that bothered Burt so much as his son s reaction. Kurt had looked sick. Standing there, shaking like a leaf, face pale and all alone. Just letting Finn rail on him, saying _that_ word. Burt had a feeling if he hadn t of come down, Kurt would have let Finn scream at him until he was blue in the face. Burt couldn t let his son sit there and take that abuse. He loved Carole, she made him really happy, but he couldn t take away the one safe haven Kurt had. Burt wasn t stupid. He knew school wasn t always good for Kurt, at best it was probably livable. His son was definitely the stronger out of the two of them. Unfortunately, he was also the more naive.

A knock at the door that pulled Burt from glaring at the blank TV. With a sigh, he pulled himself up, tugging open the door with a scowl on his face before he even knew who it was. Carole stood on the doorstep looking upset and cautious.

"Burt... I am _so_ sorry... I had no idea... I... He _knows_ better than that!" Burt shook his head, holding up his hands.

"Carole... don't worry. You don t need to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't you." Carole clasped her hands tightly in front of herself, chancing a glance back up at Burt.

"How is he doing?" Burt didn't have to ask who it was that she was talking about. He leaned against the doorframe, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Not... not that good. I think maybe he s a little in shock or something? I don t know... he s up with his mom now."

The light smell of perfume curled around him and he had to bite down on his wrist to keep from sobbing too loudly. He pressed himself closer against the dresser, wishing so badly his mom was there with her arms around him.

He loved his dad, and he loved his dad even more for what he d just done for Kurt. But his dad wasn't big on holding him while he cried, or singing Judy Garland and Bette Midler until his sobbing died down like his mom used to. And that s what he wanted right now. To be held close and sung to and told that everything would be alright.

School the next day was just as horrible as Kurt had imagined. Finn wouldn't even glance at him and avoided him completely. Mercedes wouldn't stop talking about how fine Matt s ass had looked during the boy's musical number, and Brittany had asked him in English how to spell orange ...twice. He hadn't slept well, had skipped his moisturizing routine, and he looked like a hot mess. Not even in a good way.

He slammed his locker shut, wishing desperately that his bag matched his Gaga outfit better, just before his day took a turn for the worst.

"Hey, homo"! Korofsky. Of course. Kurt spun to face the jock, flanked by Azimio.

"Wow, clever name. Did you come up with it all on your own?" He drawled, a snarl on his face. They backed him up into the end of the hall, both of them crowding in on Kurt.

"Watch your mouth, faggot." Azimio growled. Kurt narrowed his eyes.

"Or what? You re going to hit me? Like you wouldn't do it anyways. Might as well say whatever the hell I want." Korofsky glanced over at his friend, motioning with his head towards Kurt.

"Fancy's got a mouth on him."

"Yeah, he's acting like a little bitch. Bitches need a beating to learn how to behave." Had the day started-or progressed-any better than it had, Kurt might have had even a sliver of self-preservation. Unfortunately, something in Kurt snapped and all he could hear was Finn s voice circling through his mind.

_Faggy lamp... faggy blanket_

Kurt grinned a sickening sweet smile, reveling in the confusion on the jocks faces. He leaned in, head tilting slightly to the side.

"There are other ways to teach a lesson, boys. Maybe put such a mouth to better use" he cooed, brushing his fingertips over Korofsky's cheek. The jock smacked his hand hard, a look of repulsion on his face.

"Get the fuck off of me, faggot! What the fuck do you think you re doing?" Kurt couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. Korofsky's eyes flashed and he kneed Kurt so hard in the stomach the smaller boy was seeing stars.

Puck had never been a big fan of school to begin with, but after the baby drama went down, school got even more unbearable. His reputation was shot, he was considered the biggest douchebag at the school-hell, in all of Lima-which was really just not fair considering some of the dicks that went to Mckinley.

Speaking of dicks at the school. He spotted Korofskey and Azimio standing around Hummel at the end of the hall. He could only tell it was Hummel because of those ridiculous-and painful looking-shoes he d been wearing. Puck pressed his lips together, slowing his pace. All that shit Mercedes had said to him really kind of made him think, damn her. And while he wasn't planning on becoming BFF's with that Israel kid, Hummel was kind of his teammate. At the very least, he could keep the kid out of the dumpster. Korofsky was even more stupid than Finn, but he was a violent bastard and Azimio liked to watch victims suffer.

Puck couldn't tell exactly what was going on but he had a bad feeling. A lot of people weren't taking too kindly to Gaga week especially the jocks. His feelings of unease was proven right when Korofsky kneed Hummel hard in the stomach.

"Hey!" he shouted, hurrying over towards where the jocks had left the smaller boy. _He's gonna puke. He s gonna totally puke. Or scream._ Puck thought as he slid to a stop beside where Kurt had fallen. But he wasn t puking or screaming.

He was laughing. Hysterically.

"Did... did you _see_ that!" He choked out, pointing off in the direction his tormentors had gone. "They re _afraid_! Afraid of me even _touching_ them! Of _me_!" He barely got the words through the laughter. Puck hesitated, not really sure how to react to Kurt's crazy.

"Hummel...?"

"Of me! Just some filthy faggot with a pair of heels and a big mouth and they re afraid of me! Afraid because I'm gay! Afraid to catch it! Oh~ scary! His glitter will infect me!" He broke off into giggles again, but the laughter died out into big, hiccuping sobs. Kurt's whole body shook and he curled up into himself. Puck sank down to the linoleum next to him, not even hesitating as he gathered the younger boy into his arms and hugged him tightly against his chest.

People probably didn't know this about Puck, but comforting a sobbing mess was one of his strong points. He'd grown up with an overemotional mother and a little sister. He couldn't even count the number of times he'd been in a situation like this. The night his dad left and his mom just screamed and screamed and screamed before breaking down sobbing by the back door, begging her absent husband to come back. Nights after his mom made them watch "Schindler's List" and Becca would crawl into his bed because of a nightmare. So he did what he always does. He pulls Kurt right against his chest, arms tight around the smaller body. He rocked Kurt gently and hummed a song. He hugged him tighter when Kurt s shuddering increased. Puck pressed his cheek against the top of his head, moving to sing softly instead.

_Cause nothin last forever_

_ And we both know hearts can change _

_And it s hard to hold a candle _

_In the cold November rain_

The whole thing was pretty unreal. For one thing, Kurt had made it a goal to never cry in school. But he gave himself a mental health pass and blamed it on a mental break. The fact that Noah Puckerman was hugging-no, _holding_-him added to that conclusion. Why else would Puck be there singing to him, as if he could read his mind, knowing _exactly_ what Kurt needed. It made him cry harder, choking on the heavy sobs. Here he was, the asshole who'd made most of his high school life unbearable, holding him in the middle of the empty hallway while he cried.

_I know it s hard to keep an open heart_

_ When even friends seem out to harm you_

_ But if you could heal a broken heart _

_Wouldn t time be out to charm you?_

Eventually, he calmed down to slight hiccups, but Puck still didn't push him away and Kurt didn't _want_ to move. He felt exhausted. Completely drained. And he still had to go home and pull down all the things in their-his?-room. He didn t want the reminder.

_Faggy lamp..._

"What'd you say?" Shit. He hadn't realized he'd said that out loud.

"What? I... I didn't say anything?"

"Don t lie, Kurt. You said faggy lamp . Why? Doesn't make much sense to come outta no where..." Kurt sat up a bit, his eyes red and wide. Puck shifted, slightly uncomfortable.

"What?"

"You... you called me Kurt."

"So?"

"You... you've never called me that before..." Puck shrugged a little, arms still around Kurt.

"So... are you going to tell me what just happened?" Kurt opened his mouth to tell Puck he didn't owe him anything, didn't need to tell _Puck _something he hadn't even told his best friend, but instead his resistance failed. He slumped a little, cheek resting against Puck's shoulder and spilled everything. Everything from the first time Azimio and Korofsky shoved him and Tina to what had just happened. Including all the gorey details. Finn slapping his hand away when he was just trying to help, the bitchy sales lady at the fabric store, Finn's comment about putting his underwear on in the shower, curling up next to his mother's dresser just wishing she was there. And Puck listened though it all, not saying a word. He tensed as the story went on and his hand had started lightly rubbing Kurt s back.

When he was done, there was a heavy silence before Puck broke it, his voice low and hard.

"That... was a really, really shitty thing for Finn to do. All of it. But your dad sounds like a total bad ass." Kurt choked out a tiny laugh, getting the feeling Puck wanted to say something more, but silenced himself.

"Hey, Puck? What... what that song were you... uhm... singing?"

"November Rain by Guns n Roses. It s one of my mom's favorites. Makes her cry almost every time." Kurt nodded a little, making a mental note to look the song up when he got home. Speaking of home... he needed to get going.

"It's getting kind of late. My dad will probably get worried." He whispered, not really wanting to leave. Puck nodded, pulling away and pushing himself up, holding out a hand for Kurt. Kurt gratefully took it getting up in ten inch heels was a bitch. It was then he realized how _badly_ that knee to the stomach hurt now, hissing out the pain. Puck took notice, frowning.

"You're going to have one hell of a bruise. You need to get an ice pack on that right when you get home. Fifteen to twenty minutes at a time and it ll help it a lot." Puck muttered while rubbing the back of his head. Kurt raised an eyebrow and smiled a little, nodding.

"Thanks... walk me to my car?" Puck shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded, following Kurt out to his navigator.

When they reached his car, Puck waited near by as Kurt slid into the drivers seat. Kurt raised an eyebrow, leaning down to slip off his shoes. He let out a little cry as the bruise sent pain all through his chest. Puck hurried over, taking Kurt s foot in his hand.

"Here... you re going to hurt yourself more. Just... let me do it." Kurt could only stare in awe as Puck gently eased both the shoes off his aching feet. Even pausing slightly to momentarily rub the arch of his left foot, but maybe Kurt imagined it. Puck placed the shoes in Kurt's lap, standing again and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I don t know how you keep walking in those things without falling all over the place and killing yourself." He muttered, rocking on his heels. Kurt bit his bottom lip, pulling one leg up.

"Lots of practice? My mom... used to let me play in her closet." He looked down at the floor, a sad smile pulling at his lips. "Pretty gay, huh?"

"No." Puck said with such assurance, Kurt looked up. "No, I think that's nice. And it s good you have those kind of memories of her, you know." Kurt smiled at him, looking around the parking lot. He realized there weren't any cars in the parking lot anymore and wondered if that s why Puck was hanging around.

"Do you... ah... need a ride home?" Puck hesitated just a minute before nodding, walking around to the other side of the car and slipping into the passengers seat.

"You'll have to tell me how to get there and... you can pick the music if you want." He said motioning to the ipod and slipping on his seat belt, before pulling out of the parking lot.

The drive was quiet. Puck picked the playlist Kurt had made for Glee songs, but the volume was on low. It wasn't really uncomfortable, but not completely comfortable either. Neither of them spoke, but Puck was drumming beats on his knees and Kurt mouthed the words silently. It was kind of... nice. So when they came to Puck s house, Kurt was almost sad about it, not minding the time spent with the older boy. Puck paused after unbuckling his seat belt, turning to face Kurt.

"Listen... I know I haven't... I've been a dick to you and to a lot of people. And... I don't even know if you'll believe me, but... don't listen to the shit that Finn or Korofsky or anyone says. You're... you're kind of an incredible person, even when you are acting a little stuck up, and I think it's awesome that you... know yourself so well and aren't afraid to be different. Because that's what s gonna get you out of this stupid town and... what makes you the opposite of a Lima Loser. You're something special... something more. And if Finn can t see that... he doesn't deserve for you to feel like that about him." His voice got quiet towards the end and he turned to face Kurt in the car.

Kurt was kind of in shock. Trying to digest everything that _Noah Puckerman_ had just said to him. So he was a little caught off guard when Puck leaned forward, a hand coming up to lightly cup his cheek, before a pair of soft lips were pressed against his own. He gasped softly his eyes fluttering shut on their own accord as he leaned in against the kiss. As soon as it started, Puck pulled away, holding Kurt's gaze for just a second before climbing quickly out of the car and shuffling into his house. Kurt stayed parked outside for a moment, staring in shock. Noah Puckerman was not who he thought would be his first kiss. But then again, he thought as he pulled away to start driving home, he never thought Finn would be the one to hurt him like that.

"Hey, Hudson!" Finn turned around to see Puck stalking towards him, glaring. The two hadn't spoken since sectionals, had avoided each other at all costs, until now.

"What do you want, Puckerman?"

"I want to know when you decided to become total dickhead to people you consider your friends." Finn scowled, slamming his locker shut.

"Guess I took a page from your book. Puck s eyes narrowed. But I don't know what you re talking about. And honestly, I'd rather if you just left me alone all together." He tried to turn and storm away but Puck grabbed his arm slamming him back against the lockers.

"Don't play stupid with me, Finn. No matter how good you are at it. This isn't about you and me. This is about Kurt." Finn's expression went from anger to confusion in a matter of seconds.

"About... about Kurt? What the hell does Kurt have to do with anything?"

"That stuff you said to him? All that shit you've pulled over the past few days?" Finn made a face, trying to push Puck off of him.

"Dude! How is it any of your business anyways? Like you haven't done worse to him."

"Not since... not in a long time. You were supposed to be his _friend_. You were always sticking up for him and everything. What the hell happened?" Finn finally shoved Puck away, glaring down at him.

"Don't you play dumb with me, either. You know how Kurt looks at me. You were the one who asked if I was gay when he sang that... that dumb song back with his dad and my mom started dating. And... and after we moved in together, I wasn't just hearing shit from you anymore! It was... it was all the guys. Saying that we were boyfriends, saying that... that I was gay and all this other... whatever! I didn't want things to be weird and... and to have to worry about him watching me in my room."

"But it wasn't _your_ room, Finn! It was his! You were in his house. And who the fuck cares what idiots like Korofsky are saying? You want to see a Lima Loser, he s the perfect fucking example of it. So you want to hurt people because of something that dumbass said, fine. But don t be surprised when you have nothing left." He glared at Finn before turning on his heel, sneering slightly.

"I've got more important things to worry about." And with that, he stormed away.

When Puck walked into Glee that afternoon, everyone had to take a double take. His left eye was swollen nearly shut and his lip was split. He had a cut above his eye and his knuckles were wrapped in gauze. But he was smirking, smirking as if to say You should see the other guy . And Kurt had a feeling the other guy was way worse off. He kept sneaking glances at Puck and every time he did, Puck was looking at him. He didn't know what that look meant, he was still wondering what that kiss last night meant.

Thinking about it made his stomach feel all fluttery and his head hurt, so he tried not to. Because thinking about it made his over active imagination feel like it had a right to start coming up with ridiculous scenarios of Puck being his knight in shining armor or something equally as ridiculous. And he didn't want to get his hopes up. Plus, he wasn't sure if Puck would take a gay crush on him better or worse than Finn had. And really, he didn't want to down that road again.

"I hear he picked a fight with Korofsky and Azimio. Took them both on like it was nothing. They re pissed about it, but he won the fight." Kurt over heard Artie saying. The words made his heart do this silly little flip flop thing and he thought maybe he was about to have a stroke because it was entirely possible that he d just stopped breathing. Why in the world would Puck pick a fight with two guys who were supposed to be at least kind of his friend? Unless... unless he was doing it for him, or because of him or... whatever. Kurt buried his face in his hands. He really couldn't deal with any more drama.

After Glee, Kurt had darted from the room so fast, he hadn't even realized that his ipod had fallen out of his bag. So, being the gentleman that he was, Puck grabbed it and chased Kurt down.

"Kurt! Hey! You dropped this!" Kurt spun around so quickly, he slipped on his Gaga shoes and was pretty positive he was going to hit his face against the floor or the lockers, neither of which seemed like a fun idea. But, surprisingly, his face did not hit anything hard. Or at least nothing unpleasantly hard. No, no. He fell very ungracefully into a very nice chest. Puck s chest. He d probably weep for joy if he wasn't so surprised.

"You okay?" Kurt swallowed hard, blinked a few times, and nodded. Puck smiled a little, helping Kurt stand up right.

"Y-yeah... I'm totally fine. Thanks for... uhm... not letting me ruin my face. Or you know... I d have to pay for a nose job. Did... you... you called my name?" Puck seemed to be confused for a minute before remembering.

"Oh, yeah. You... you dropped your ipod. Back in the room. You didn't notice." Kurt took the device in his hands, giving Puck a smile.

"Thanks. I would have just been devastated if I got home and didn't have it. I really have to have my right playlist while I'm going through my nightly moisturizing ritual. So...so thanks." Puck nodded, shrugging a little. Kurt rocked a little from side to side, biting his lip in thought before seemingly coming to a decision.

"You... want a ride home again? I mean... you're really kind of on the way and it's way better than the bus?" Puck nodded, smiling a little.

"Better than beating up some kid for the seat I want."

"Yeah, looks like you've had enough of that for one day." Kurt said, raising an eyebrow. Puck rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well... they deserved it. Fuckers had it coming." Kurt didn't say another word about it, just rolled his eyes and led the way to his car.

And if Puck noticed November Rain playing on Kurt s ipod well... he didn't say a thing.


	2. Chapter 2

There were a few things Puck absolutely knew about himself.

1.) He was a self-proclaimed bad ass. Even when he was little he was awesome and he had made damn sure people knew he could—and would—kick their ass. When he was six, he beat up a second grader who had cut in the lunch line. He'd broken his arm when he was eight falling out of a tree house and he hadn't cried, not even a little. He slushed a senior football player his first year of high school and when the football team tried to retaliate, Puck had broken the quarterback's nose. Sure, he'd gotten a bit pummeled himself and his mom had cried a lot but hell—people knew that he was a bad ass and not to fuck with him.

2.) He was incredibly impulsive. He did a lot of things with out thinking. Typically violent things, but not always. Sleeping with Quinn had been impulsive. Joining Glee had been impulsive. Tossing Kurt into the dumpster when they were fourteen was impulsive. He just didn't always think before he did things. He just did them.

3.) He never disliked Kurt for being gay. Puck didn't particularly care what got a person off. Boys, girls, both, whatever. Sex was sex. Maybe love was love too, he wasn't sure. Puck also didn't care who was checking him out. He _knew_ he was good looking. Who _wouldn't_ want to hit this? Besides, Puck knew that guys on the sports teams checked each other out. Not in a "I wanna fuck" sort of way, but what's the difference?

Puck thought that it might have been a combination of these things that made him kiss Kurt Hummel in his car that night, the reason he sought out Azimio and Korofsky. But something more kind of pulled at the pit of his stomach.

Puck had to be honest; Hummel was hot. Puck didn't consider himself gay, but he knew what looked good, and Kurt was kind of seriously fuckable. He didn't think it was _that_ weird, but he knew a lot of people—especially in Lima—did. So he didn't mention it to anyone, even Finn when they were friends. There were enough things wrong with him that people hated him for.

But Puck didn't kiss Kurt just because he was hot—he didn't think. There was something about Kurt that just sucked Puck in. He remembered the first time he _really_ saw Kurt. Second week of high school and Kurt went strutting towards the doors like he owned the place. He was both really fascinated and _really_ annoyed. Puck couldn't understand what made some tiny, weirdly dressed kid act like he was the cock in the hen house. So, impulsively, he'd tossed the kid in the dumpster. But even that very first dumpster toss had Kurt simply pulling himself out, brushing himself off, and walking back in as if nothing had happened. He acted so unaffected. Like nothing could touch him, like he was better than everyone else. It really used to bother Puck, to the point of punching Kurt the first time he called him a neanderthal. But now, Puck kind of admired it. Yesterday had been the only time Puck had seen Kurt break down like that. And there had been a whole hell of a lot more going on than just bullies.

Thinking about it now made Puck's blood boil. Puck and Finn had been friends for a very long time and ever since he could remember, people had liked Finn better. Finn was a good guy. Stupid as rocks, but good. Puck had been able to figure out Kurt's little crush on the quarterback pretty much when it happened. It was obvious, really. Kurt wasn't very good at subtle glances. It came as no surprise to Puck—_everyone_ liked Finn. Those who couldn't catch Finn's attention then settled for Puck and pretended it was Finn. Puck kind of figured that if Finn ever noticed Kurt's crush, he'd be pretty chill with it. Finn and Kurt had seemed like friends even before Glee, Finn was always being nice to Kurt. So this whole thing with the room and the fucking towelette just served to piss Puck off. He didn't really know why, but seeing Kurt just destroyed over the whole thing really got to him. So he, Noah "Stay Away From That Boy" Puckerman, had done what Finn was too chickenshit to do.

He'd held Kurt together long enough that the smaller teen could breathe again. Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all.

Kurt slammed his locker shut, cocking an eyebrow at Mercedes' angry look.

"Are you ever going to realize how criminal that jacket is?" Kurt asked with a slightly cruel grin. Mercedes scowl deepened.

"What is going on?" She hissed in his direction. Kurt adjusted his bag on his shoulder, holding his books a little closer to his chest.

"Well, earlier my dad told me he'd pay me to help out in the garage this week. Pretty exciting." Mercedes grabbed his arm, tugging it a little.

"Don't play with me, Kurt. What was all that nonsense with _Puck_ yesterday?"

"Him acting like a hot shot and beating up those two idiots? I'm certain I haven't the slightest idea." He cocked an eyebrow at the girl's doubtful look. "Oh, am I supposed to keep tabs on Noah Puckerman now? Sorry, I'll get right on that." Kurt realized he was being unfair and fairly grumpy, but he really wasn't in the mood to deal with this high school drama.

"Kurt...? Is everything alright?" Kurt took a deep breath and forced a little smile in his friend's direction.

"I'm fine, 'Cedes. Didn't get my full eight hours last night. It's very important, as you know. I'm sorry." Mercedes smiled back, buying the lie. Whether it was because she didn't realize he was lying or didn't _want_ to realize, Kurt couldn't be sure. But either way, he didn't feel like rehashing everything that had happened.

Kurt kept an eye out for Puck, though he wasn't entirely sure why. So Puck had been nice to him. Kurt was _so_ not going to fall all over himself because a guy was nice to him. He saw where that got him. Besides, Puck was the prime example of an asshole and Kurt really didn't need to get involved with the biggest whore in McKinnley. But still, Kurt looked for him, watched out for his shaved head, slumped shoulders and pissed off scowl. Mercedes was talking to him about some sweater she found at the mall, but Kurt wasn't really paying attention. He was too busy trying to look over the head of an obnoxiously tall freshman in front of him.

And then he saw him.

Black shirt pulled tight over his chest and arms, backpack slung over one shoulder and that slightly pouty scowl on his face. Kurt hated that butterflies flew through his stomach, hated that a smile tried to pull across his lips. He didn't want to feel giddy over Puck, but when the older teen looked up and caught his eye, Kurt couldn't help but blush. Puck gave him a tiny smile and Kurt had to smile back.

School kind of sucked major ass for Puck lately. Everyone pretty much hated him now and that was shitty. School was stupid to begin with, but now that no one was talking to him, it was ultra stupid. So Puck had started the game of avoiding, ignoring and glaring. It worked out pretty well for him. Kept people off his back and kept him from seeing all the dirty looks people sent his way. If he had to look at all those fucking faces looking at him like that he'd have one of those psychotic breaks and kill everyone. And he'd kind of put his mom through a whole hell of a lot so that would be pretty shitty of him. So he kept to himself, kept his head down, kept his fists clenched.

Unless Kurt was around.

He liked when he saw Kurt, liked how the younger teen blushed red and looked away with only a tiny smile. He kind of hated that it made him so damn happy. It was pretty much the best part of his day and Puck thought maybe that was a little weird. But it was _something_ to look forward to, something to take his mind off how shitty everything was for him.

"Were you just staring at Hummel's ass, Puckerman?" Santana cut sharply into his thoughts. Santana was definitely the school's biggest bitch (besides maybe Kurt), but her and Puck had known each other since they were two and Puck kind of saw her as a... something. They'd fucked a lot so he figured "sister" was out.

"His jeans are like... vacuum sealed to his body. It's hard to _not_ look... and I honestly just can't understand how it's even possible." Santana raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Really?" She hissed, leaning forward. "You were contemplating Kurt's fashion choices? That's more gay than staring at his great ass." Puck scowled at her, leaning on his knees.

"Dude. I'm so not gay. Look at these guns. Stud." He flexed his arms and Santana shoved him before flicking his ear. He winced and shot her a glare.

"_So_ not a 'dude', asshole. And may I remind you, I know you better than your own mother. You're like... a 4.5 on the scale of gay." Puck'e eyes widened and he sat up straighter.

"What... the _fuck_, Lopez? I'm so not gay!" Santana rolled her eyes, pulling a nail file out of her bag.

"I've known since were seven and my cousin from Spain was visiting. He was ten years older and completely ripped and we were having a pool party and you, ever the little perv, could _not_ stop staring at him." Puck frowned.

"S-so! That... I was seven! And the guy was like... super man!"

"When we were thirteen you cried when we watched Titanic."

"It's a really depressing movie—"

"You're always checking out players from other schools."

"Sizing up the competition! Not checking anyone out!"

"And now Hummel's ass. Face it Puck, half the reason you tossed that kid in the dumpster was just so you could get your hands on him." Puck just kind of stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to do. So he was a little hot for Hummel, so what? That didn't make him hot for all guy's dicks. He didn't think.

"Lopez, if I were gay, don't you think I'd have a hard on for Finn like every other sad fuck who is into dick?" Santana scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"No. The guy is an idiot and you don't deal with people who aren't worth it. Finn is like... the least worth it guy at our school." She leaned forward, grabbing his wrist, her nails digging just enough into his skin.

"You're hot for Hummel. Even Brittany figured out why you beat up those two losers and you keep sending Finn dirty looks. You're a girl's worst nightmare, but you're a gay kid's wet dream. Pretty sure Kurt can't get preggers."

"Is that your twisted form of consent?"

"That's my way of saying I'll help you because for Kurt, you'll need to man up a little, Puckerman."


	3. Chapter 3

After school, Santana invited herself over. Which meant she also invited Brittany over. That kind of bummed Puck out, 'cause he was sort of hoping he'd be able to somehow con another ride out of Kurt. But Santana said his bad ass-ness and stud standing wouldn't be quite enough for someone like Kurt.

"First of all," She said, shoving a pile of clothes off his bed so she could sit. "You don't get to fuck him. At least not for the first few dates." Puck frowned. staring at her.

"Why is that the first thing?"

"Because, Puck, 'I'm a virgin' is like an open invitation in your twisted little brain. And maybe you don't believe they exist, but the guy does have _some_ standards. You don't get to ruin that for like... two months or something."

Two months was a long time to go 'dating' someone without fucking them, and Puck wasn't even sure he _wanted_ to date Kurt. Santana had kind of just decided for him. The Puckanator didn't really do dating. Mercedes had been the closest thing to a celibate relationship and they hadn't even kissed so it couldn't even really be counted as a relationship. Plus, it'd only lasted maybe a week. Puck couldn't really remember. He'd been distracted by Kurt… in general, and his kind of sexy man voice and Mellancamp and wanting to give that Israel kid a swirly so bad, his stupid jewfro would be stuck in the septic tank.

"Santana, this is stupid. I'll admit, I like Hummel's ass, but I don't date. Especially not exclusively. And I really, really don't date guys." Santana leaned across the bed towards him, eyes narrowed in a way that he tried really hard to not consider a little intimidating.

"Brit, what was it you said about Puck earlier?" Brittany, who was sitting on the floor, drawing designs on the carpet with her finger, looked up at Puck.

"That he was capital G gay... and so far in the closet he was in the garage." Puck gaped at her and Santana grinned.

"Right. Also, you have never dated a boy, Noah Puckerman. So you don't know if you do or do not date them. Stop being a pussy and admit your flaming, glittery feelings. I thought you were a _stud_ ." Puck glared at her and _really_ she'd at least _pretend_ to be a little intimidated by it. But all in all, Puck had no words. Sure, he'd kind of fantasied about Hummel's ass or mouth while he jacked off and...okay... _one_ time he watched some gay porn, but that didn't mean he was going all Adam Lambert.

"Why are you even trying to hook me up with Hummel and make sure I treat him right and shit? I thought you hated everyone but Brittany and were all like... possessive of me like with Mercedes and that sexy cat fight." Santana rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"I could not, in good conscious, all you to date _her_ . It would be like... knowing endangerment or something. Also, I don't hate Kurt." At this, she smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "I've liked him since 3rd grade when he gave up the swing so Brit and I could swing together. I don't forget." Puck rolled his eyes, resigning himself to whatever Santana had planned.

"Guess there's no point in fighting you is there?" Santana shook her head, patting Puck's cheeks.

"It's best to just bend over and take it. Let it happen." Puck tried very hard to not let her see that he was a little terrified.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"'I'm Not a Waitress' red will be perfect for your nails, Brittany. It's going to look absolutely fabulous." Kurt gushed, pulling Brittany's hand closer. The blonde girl smiled, head cocking.

"And I'm _not_ a waitress, so it makes sense, too... right?" Kurt nodded absently and began painting her nails.

Kurt was feeling a little distracted. All during Glee club the previous day, Santana had been staring at him. At. Him. Santana was kind of seriously terrifying when she felt like it and having her sharp eyes right on him made Kurt increasingly nervous. What if Puck had told her what had happened and now Santana was going to make a very couture mini from his skin. She'd be able to rock it, she did have killer legs and the paleness of his skin really would compliment hers. Plus, it'd be a warning to everyone. Everyone knew Santana was more than a little possessive of Puck. She'd practically ripped out Mercedes' weave when she'd made a move on the jock. If she knew that they had kissed, she'd slaughter him. Kurt shook his head, focusing harder on fixing a little mess to the side of Brittany's nail. Stress caused pimples and pimples were just one more thing he didn't need.

_Besides, _ Kurt thought with a little sigh. _I'm sure that kiss meant nothing to Puck. He's kissed nearly everyone in Lima. Kisses are like hand shakes to him. _ Kurt tried very hard to ignore how depressed the thought made him.

"Are you okay, Kurt? You're making unhappy noises." Kurt raised his eyes to Brittany and gave her a little smile.

"I'm fine, Brit. Just lamenting the fact that I could not rock the red nails as well. Despite their perfect shape." Brittany smiled and waved her hands in the air to dry them.

"Maybe you could. Santana always says how Cheerios can do anything. Especially when dating a football player. It's why we dated Mark Lakes." Kurt laughed softly, filing at his own nails.

"Right. I'll just go ask Mike to prom. Maybe we'll even be voted Prom Kings." Brittany's eyes widened and she shook her head. Kurt forgot sometimes that sarcasm went right over Brittany's head.

"No, Kurt. You can't date Mike. You should date Puck." Kurt froze, staring up at his friend.

"That... Brittany, that's a ridiculous suggestion. And one that if I followed, could probably actually get me murdered." Brittany cocked her head to the side in confusion.

"Why? When Santana and I made a list of hottest guys in school, Puck was number one on the list. And he's in Glee and he's on the football team. He dated Mercedes..."

"There is a _very _ distinct difference between Mercedes and myself."

"I don't think Puck only dates black girls. Although... he did say Beyonce had a great ass..." Kurt resisted the urge to groan, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I am a boy. Mercedes is a girl."

"So?"

"Puck isn't gay, Brittany. He likes girls with boobs and no penis." Brittany smiled a little, looking at her fingernails.

"Santana likes guys. A lot. But that doesn't stop her and me." Kurt shifted a little uncomfortably.

"That's... you guys are different."

"How do you know? People change their minds sometimes." Kurt frowned and though back on the brief kiss Puck gave him. Thought about how it wasn't pushy or too rushed. How it was almost sweet and caring. He signed and rubbed his head. Brittany's suggestions were never really ever good ones.

"You and Puck would be like... the Power Couple, Kurt. Santana said so." Kurt's eyes snapped up to Brittany's.

"Santana? You talked to Santana about this? Why?"

"Because we always play the Who Should Date game. Just... think about it, Kurt. He is a great kisser." Kurt knew he would think about it. Even if he didn't want to.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Puck was not used to feeling nervous. He was Puckzilla, he had no fear. But when Santana challenged him to ask Kurt to hang out- and _just_ hang out- Puck got a tense feeling in his chest. Puck didn't ask people out on dates. He walked up to a girl, let loose some pick up line, and she was practically lifting her skirt in the hallways. But Santana told him that would not work on Kurt. Puck had to actually be _nice_ , do things Kurt would want to do, shit like that. But Puck kept picturing Kurt's brutal rejection. He wasn't so sure Kurt would let go of all those dumpster tosses and the mean shit Puck put him through. But Santana had threatened to tear off his balls if he didn't stop acting like a little girl and just ask the guy out. Anyways, he was the Puckster. He was a stud. He could do anything. They had Spanish together next… he'd start his plan of attack there.

Very little shocked Kurt about Noah Puckerman. But when he slipped into Spanish, only a couple minutes late, and sat next to Kurt, he was a little surprised, but tried to ignore it. That is until Puck pushed a piece of paper with messy handwriting his way.

_**Como se dice "Mr. Schuester's fly is down" en Espanol? **_ Kurt stared at the paper in shock, contemplating just ignoring it but before he knew it, his pencil was moving.

_You actually showed up for more than the last fifteen minutes? Mr. Schue might actually weep for joy._

_**Hope he doesn't get too excited. I don't plan on paying that much attention.**_

_What could you possibly be doing during school if you're not in class anyways? Hunting down Cheerios? Stealing virtue? _

_**Puckzilla can't be caged in by the four corners of this shithole school. Obviously. Sometimes I just hang around the choir room with my guitar. **_

_You do realize what a ridiculous nickname "Puckzilla" is, right? At least "Puck" has literary background. _

_**The Puckinator has no idea what you're talking about... your face is ridiculous, so your argument is invalid. **_

_It's literally like talking to a six year old when I'm talking to you._

_**Puckasaurous thinks you're being just a little dramatic, Hummbelina. **_

_Children give themselves dinosaur nicknames. And don't call me that._

_**Why not? I kind of like it. You're very small and you know, a little girly. So it's pretty fitting. Me on the other hand... I'm fifty stories worth of terrifyingly delicious muscular dinosaur meat that can breathe fire. Godzilla kinda has a mohawk, too.**_

_Thumbellina was a girl, moron. I am not. _

_**Don't make me state the obvious. I know you're a dude, but you're the girliest dude I know. You know, in the least offensive way possible. We could go with Kurtella instead. Kinda like Nutella, so that would make you chocolatey and delicious on toast?**_

_Can't I just keep my normal name? I don't need a dumb nickname. _

_**You absolutely need a dumb nickname. What will you possibly do with out one? Even your black chick friend has one. Aretha, remember? Asian, other asian? I forgot what Sylvester called you. Gay kid? I'd rather just call you Hummbelina.**_

_She calls me Kurt now, since I'm a cheerio. Well... that or Lady Face but I will castrate you if you call me that. _

_**Like you could handle Puckzilla's might balls of titanium. I'd laugh at your feeble attempt.**_

_Please. You think way too highly of yourself._

_**My balls are the only thing I've got going for me right now, so excuse me if I glorify them a bit. Well, my cock too. Cockzilla.**_

_Super charming. No wonder so many girls let you into their pants. It's sad. No one believes in romance any more._

_**If you're looking to be wooed in this town, you're delusional. The most romantic thing I've seen all month is Brittany's budding relationship with the janitor.**_

_It's sad, really. Most people's idea of romance is bringing a condom along._

_**Hey, that is romantic. I mean, it's considerate and all, right? And you're one to talk, you tried the whole... really weird and awkward thing with Brittany.**_

_Ugh, don't remind me. Please. I've been trying to block the memory. _

_**So you actually did make out with her, then? Did you touch her boobs? You didn't fuck her, did you? Because that would... really mess with my head**_.

_Yes, no, and __NO! __ Still... I don't know what I was thinking over the whole thing. Super stupid._

_**Kind of. But it's whatever, who hasn't tapped that at least once? I'm kind of impressed, Hummel. I wasn't sure if you were capable of talking guy.**_

_May I remind you, yet again, I am in fact a __guy. __ Not a girl with a short hair cut._

_**This is true. It's not like I don't know you're a dude and all, it's that you talk girl so much sometimes it's hard to imagine you talking guy. I mean come on, you're the one who tried to go over to the girl's team when we split up for mash ups.**_

_That's because I knew none of you would listen to any of my genius ideas. Your loss, really._

_**I don't know, Kurt... I think you pulled off leather pretty well. You might want to try dressing like a guy more often. I mean... just not in flannel. That was weird. **_

_And disgusting. Besides, almost all of the clothes I wear __are __ boy clothes. _

_**Dude. You wore a corset to school. **_

_I said almost! And it looked awesome. It's not my fault no one here understands couture. _

_**Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Hummel. There's no real point in arguing with you. **_

_You're saying that because you don't know what it is, aren't you._

_**Yes. But also... you contradict yourself, you know? You say you're proud of who you are, that... being different is the best thing about you, and... I'd deny it to anyone who asks, but... you're right, Hummel. It's what's gonna get you out of this shit town. But then you also want to pretend that you're just another one of the guys... when you're not. You're not one of us, you're not some dumbass guy with a dirty jockstrap in his back pocket who didn't shower this morning because sleep seemed like a better idea. But who cares? You shouldn't care, because you're Kurt Hummel.**_

Kurt stared at the paper as he walked to his locker. He stared at it in his next class. He stared at it on his way to lunch and nearly forgot to quickly fold the paper and slip it into his pocket before Mercedes could confiscate and question him about it. He hadn't even told Mercedes about Finn, he wasn't about to tell her about Puck's strange behavior.

Finn had stopped sitting with them, had moved over to a table with the jocks who were quick to forget all the shit they put him through. Rachel sent a questioning, searching look in Finn's direction, and Kurt felt his stomach clench stupidly in guilt. He tried to remind himself that he wasn't the one to throw around slurs, that he'd tried- in his own way- to make things okay. But when Finn looked up and his eyes only met Kurt's for a split second before looking away again, Kurt couldn't explain away the ache in his chest.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when a tray hit the table, the sound of the metal legs of the chair scraping against linoleum before Puck was seated beside Rachel-right across from Kurt.

"Noah!"Rachel squauked, being the first of the gleeks to pull together enough to speak. "What are you doing?" Puck shrugged, popping the tab on his coke and taking a long gulp, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand.

"Eating? Shit, Berry, you gotta problem with that?" Rachel shook her head, eyes still wide.

"No problem. Just wondering why you're sitting _here_ ." Puck's eyes flickered to Kurt's for barely a second before he looked back at Rachel with a smirk and pointed to the bruise by his eye.

"Korofsky and Aizimio are still butt hurt over me kicking their asses. Don't want me sittin' over there now. And since everyone else in this school is either terrified of me or thinks I've got like...mega sperm that will impregnate them if I'm with in ten feet... you guys are the lucky winners of my company." He ginned before stealing a french fry from Rachel's plate. Kurt could practically _hear_ Mercedes roll her eyes before her focus was back on him.

"So _anyways_ , I was thinking we should hit up the mall, force those associates to work for their money, stop by a block buster, pick us up some Channing Tatum- that boy is _fine_ for a white boy- and crash at your place. See if Finn will let us have the basement for the night." Kurt's eyes widened as he turned away from his limp browning salad.

"N-no! No! We... we can't go to my house! We uh... we can't!" Mercedes raised an eyebrow, frowning a little.

"What? Why not?"

"Because... because uhm..." He couldn't tell her it was because he'd torn everything down, that piles of fabric and throws and pillows and lamps now lay around his room. He'd have to tell her everything and Kurt really, really did not want to do that.

"He can't because he's helping me work on some shit tonight." All eyes from the table went to Puck, casually sipping at his coke and shoving food into his mouth, hardly bothering with a napkin. None were more shocked than Kurt.

"I'm sorry, _Kurt_ is helping _you _ with something?" Mercedes questioned, her narrowed eyes flickering between Puck and Kurt. Puck nodded, shrugging.

"Don't make a big deal out of it, Aretha. Just needed a little help and Hummel decided to be a cool dude for once. Just chill." His eyes flickered to Kurt's once more and he grinned. Mercedes starred at Kurt in shock and he quickly snapped out of the trance he was in.

"Yes. I am helping Puck out with some... school things. In return, he's teaching me a little more about football besides the horrible color combinations. My dad is simply thrilled. He won tickets to go see the... The Calves... the... the Ponies... the...uhm..."

"The Colts?"

"Yes! The Colts! He won tickets to their opening game and I... want to be able to go with him and...you know... follow the game." Mercedes still looked a little unconvinced so Kurt gave her a smile.

"Don't worry. You're on speed dial and I carry pepper spray. I'll be fine." Puck snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Please. I'm not gonna hurt Hummel. It's almost like hitting a girl, you know." Kurt shot him a little glare before turning back to Mercedes.

"And he's such a gentleman, too. Really though, I'll be fine." Mercedes sighed and shook her head, starting in on her chicken.

"I don't think it's the best idea, but whatever. Call me when he turns on you." Kurt though he saw something flash over Puck's expression, though he saw Puck's hands clench against the table, but it was over beofre he could be sure. He let out a little sigh, wishing today would just calm down and stop being weird and let him relax a little. Too much strangeness had happened in the past couple days. Too much in his life and flipped upside down. Puck being nice, Finn avoiding him, Brittany speaking in complete sentences that made sense and had something to do with conversations, while also telling him to go after Noah "Sex Shark" Puckerman... it was all too much. He passed on eating his salad, rubbing his temples instead. He needed his pajamas, a facemask, and a nap. Pronto.

Puck kicked him under the table and when Kurt sent him a glare, the jock just grinned. With a sigh, Kurt pushed his salad away completely. He knew nothing good could come from playing nice with Noah Puckerman.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt had to be dreaming, that could be the only explanation for this strangeness. It was a reasonable enough idea. He fell asleep in French class during presentations because he could hardly understand anyone due to their terrible pronunciation. He'd fallen asleep then, so it wasn't unreasonable for him to be dreaming now because there was simply no other explanation for Puck to be following him down the hall. It had to be a dream, so he pinched himself as hard as he could to wake up from the stupid, taunting non-reality.

Unfortunately for Kurt, he'd either been mislead by all those who told him that one couldn't feel pain in one's dreams, or Puck really was following him out to his car. So he stopped and turned around to face the jock, hand tightening on his bag and his eyes narrowed.

"Why are you following me?" Puck raised an eyebrow, leaning all his weight on one leg, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"We've got plans today, remember?" Kurt tried very hard to keep his jaw from dropping, but was fairly positive he failed miserably.

"Wh-what? I didn't... I thought we were just... making up a story to keep Mercedes out of my house. I didn't think you were actually serious!" Kurt wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw a hint of hurt flash over Puck's features before the jock was studying the ground, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Yeah, well I was being serious. I mean... " He paused to lick his lips, his eyebrows creasing just a moment and if Kurt didn't know any better, he'd say Puck looked nervous. The older boy leaned in just a little bit closer, pressing his shoulder against the lockers.

"I thought I kind of made it obvious that I think you're kind of a cool dude, Kurt. You know... with the note and the... everything? I don't see the harm in hanging out a little. I'm not gonna like... jump you in your room or anything. I'm not that big of a douche."

He couldn't help it, Kurt felt his resolve slip at the seemingly sincere tone Puck spoke with. Somewhere in his mind, he knew this was a bad idea. Knew that Puck couldn't be trusted, that the jock had nearly destroyed Kurt's prized Alexander McQueen sweater his freshman year and he still couldn't get the faint smell of blue raspberry from his Versace jacket. But at the same time, Kurt couldn't forget the feeling of Puck's arms around him as they sat slumped in the hallways, the sound of his voice as he sang a song Kurt had been listening to on repeat ever since, despite his dad's confusion. But most of all, Kurt couldn't forget the warm press of Puck's lips against his own. With a sigh, Kurt nodded his head a little, pulling his bag higher on his shoulder.

"Okay... yeah, I guess you're right. We can... go to my place, I guess. But I'm not playing any stupid video games and I'm not watching any senseless, violent movies, understand?" Puck looked up at him and smiled a little, just enough to make Kurt's stomach tie in little knots.

"Cool. You can pick what we do. I'm just along for the ride." As Kurt led the way out to his car, wondering if maybe he was making a mistake. He caught Santana's eye from where she leaned against the row of locker opposite them, her pinky linked with Brittany's. She looked from him to Puck and smirked. Kurt wasn't sure what the smirk meant, whether she was going to kill him or not, but somehow he didn't feel as nervous as he figured he would. He tried as hard as he could to tell himself that it wasn't because he could feel Puck not two steps behind him.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Puck spent the whole drive to Kurt's house attempting to think up a good game plan, but literally everything he came up with was so cheesy he wanted to puke, or started with sex, which Santana had already told him wouldn't work. He knew whatever he did or said had to be perfect, because Kurt probably wouldn't give him more than one chance. That was, of course, if he even gave him that. Puck was still a little convinced that Kurt would laugh in his face no matter what he said.

Puck understood, he did. He hadn't exactly been the greatest guy in the past. In fact, he'd kind of been a dick to a lot of people, but especially to Kurt. He didn't really have anyone to blame, either. He was just kind of angry in general and took it out on people who couldn't fight back. And he did give himself a little bit of credit. Since joining Glee, he hadn't been nearly as big of a dick as in the past. And he didn't know when it was that he sort of started _liking_ Kurt. For about ten seconds he'd had a personality crisis over digging a dude's ass, but when it came down to it, it was a nice ass. And who the fuck cared anyways. But now he had his past breathing down his neck and making him feel a little nervous, a feeling he wasn't really comfortable with.

The more he thought about what Santana had said to him the night before, the more he liked the idea of being i_with_ Kurt. And yeah, maybe that was a little bit gay but for once he kind of liked the idea of not being just an easy fuck. Maybe he could even make Kurt smile again. He'd messed up a lot in his life, but all that shit Mercedes had said about being a better guy made him really want to be a better guy. It couldn't hurt, anyways. Nodding a little to himself, Puck knew he'd make Kurt see what kind of person he could be, not just the person he was.

The Hummel's house wasn't anything like Puck expected. It looked a little different in the daylight when he wasn't sneaking around to nail chairs to the roof, but all together it was pretty average. He figured maybe the inside would be all fancy like Kurt's clothes, but really the only difference between Kurt's house and Puck's apartment was that the pillows on the couch actually matched and the curtains didn't look fifty years old. There were some pictures in the hallways, mostly of Kurt, some with his dad, and some of a really pretty looking lady that Puck assumed was Kurt's mom. Kurt hesitated a moment in the entryway, before leading the way down the hall and to a door a little left of the stairs.

"It's... it's kind of a mess right now so... just don't expect too much." Puck nodded a little, not really positive what he was agreeing to and followed Kurt down some stairs to a room that was definitely bigger than his at home. Puck could tell that at one point it probably looked kind of cool, or at least very Kurt, but at the moment it looked like a fucking wreck.

There were piles of dark fabrics all over the floor. A lamp was pushed over and leaning in a corner along with a bunch of pillows. A couple of flat couch looking things were pushed against the wall, one on top of the other and there were a couple lights hanging at weird angles from the ceiling.

"Shit... did you do all this?" Kurt tensed just a little, arms crossed over his chest.

"You mean the mess or the decorating? It's yes to both. I didn't... I didn't want to look at it anymore." Puck looked over at Kurt and frowned. The younger teen wasn't looking at him but at the mess all over the floor. He still looked upset and Puck couldn't really blame him. He knew how everyone saw Hudson, and he knew how much it sucked to have him say hurtful things to you, because you don't expect him to say them. He imagined it sucked even more when you didn't deserve it.

"I bet it looked pretty kick ass. You're good at shit like that." That got Kurt to look at him, his eyes wide and his forehead kind of creased in confusion.

"Did you just... how would you know if I'm good at 'shit like that' or not?" Puck shrugged a little, shifting kind of awkwardly.

"You helped Santana and Brittany with their costumes for that Gaga thing, right? Santana was freaking out about it all over facebook. And I figure... clothes and rooms can't be that different, right? Plus... all these colors seem to... like...match?" He wasn't sure if he was making things better or worse because Kurt just stared at him like he'd grown another head or twelve before his breath kind of hitched a little and he looked away, blinking really fast.

"I don't understand how you're doing this." His voice was really soft and shaking a little, and that got Puck kind of scared that Kurt was going to start screaming or crying because he'd said the wrong thing. He took a step or two towards Kurt but stopped himself short.

"What? What am I doing?"

"You're saying all the right things, and I don't understand how or… why." Kurt sniffled a little, his arms tightening around himself and Puck took another step forward. It was now or never. He figured going with his gut was probably the best thing he could do, so he took a chance. He wrapped an arm around Kurt and turned his body towards his own, bringing up a hand to tilt the younger teen's face up just a little, and pressed their lips together.

Kurt could honestly say that having Puck kiss him as a response was not even on his list of things he expected. But somehow, the soft touch released all the tension from his body. He felt himself leaning towards the jock, felt Puck's hand tighten against his waist, felt his hand against his cheek. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his knew maybe he should be wondering about Puck's motives, wondering about why exactly Puck was kissing him when as far as he knew the jock was pretty fond of chasing skirts.

But at the same time, Puck was kissing him like he was pretty fond of doing just what he was doing at this moment. And the feeling of being held, of being _cradled_ was exactly what Kurt knew he'd needed since the day Korofsky had shoved him and Tina against the row of lockers. And all Kurt wanted was for the moment to not end. To not have to go back to pretending he was okay with the way things were, pretending he was strong because he told himself it was better than letting them see you broken. Because somehow, with Puck's arms around his waist and his thumb caressing Kurt's hip bone, Kurt felt like things might be okay, like he was strong enough handle everything going on. Like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he felt.

Of course, the moment did not last forever. Puck pulled back, let his grip loosen, let his eyes open. Kurt wanted to stay wrapped up in the feeling of being wanted, but as the space between them grew, he felt the chill of the room sink into his bones. He allowed himself to stay in Puck's loose grip, figured it was easier than trying to run away.

"Listen, Kurt..." Puck started and his voice sounded kind of thick, his eyebrows knitting together in a way that made him look a little vulnerable.

"If this is the part where you say you didn't mean for that to happen and could we both just pretend it didn't... I swear, Noah Puckerman, I will make you walk home." Puck shook his head, running a hand over his neck.

"No... it's... look, I'm really trying here so don't... just relax and don't freak out about what I'm about to say." Now Kurt really was worried. He took a step back, out of Puck's hold, wrapping his arms around his middle. Puck made what look like a move towards him, but stopped short, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I'm not good at talking. I think we all pretty much know I'd rather punch someone than like... talk it out, or whatever. And I don't usually have to try with people. They either like me or they don't, and if they don't then I don't really give a fuck. And... I don't really try to sleep with girls. It's really fucking easy. And so... for a second there I kind of thought I'd be able to just skirt by on the same shit I've been pulling since I can remember, but... you're different. And that's the greatest fucking thing about you and I wouldn't want to just... skate by. I... I really like you, Kurt. And I know that sounds fucking stupid and probably out of the fucking blue because it's not like I've made it public knowledge that I don't just dig on chicks and I haven't exactly been Prince Charming to you or whatever, but I've been trying hard to not be a total dick to you and sometimes I can be, especially to Rachel, but that's mostly because she's fucking annoying as hell and-"

Kurt could have let him finish. He could have let Puck ramble on and on about whatever insane thing he had to say next, could have let him suffer. But Kurt didn't need that. He'd already been sold when Puck had first kissed him, had first held him in the hallway all that time ago, really. But hearing the older teen tell him that he "really liked" him, that was enough. So he shut him up in the only way you really can shut Noah Puckerman up.

He didn't kiss quite as well as Puck and he had to kind of tilt his head at an angle so they didn't bump noses, but the second he kissed him, Puck took control and everything just fell into place. Kurt felt himself arch towards the older teen as Puck tilted their heads just so, running his tongue just barely over his bottom lip. Kissing Puck was definitely different from kissing Brittany… although she was right, it did taste a little like dip.

Kurt smiled a little into the kiss, his hands gripping Puck's jacket to pull himself a little closer, whining a little when Puck pulled just barely away.

"You... you didn't let me finish..." Puck muttered a little, a tiny smile on his lips. Kurt shrugged a little, offering a smile back.

"I'm impatient. What can I say." Puck's smile widened, a little chuckle slipping into the air between them.

"Okay, yeah, you really are but what I've gotta say is kind of important and if I don't say it now I... I might pussy out, alright?" Kurt cocked an eyebrow, but nodded nonetheless, letting his hands slide down Puck's arms.

"I can't take credit for everything. Santana kind of forced me into seeing shit this way, but she knows me really fucking well so I trust her. I mean it when I say I really like you... and I don't usually really like people. But I want to like... try something with you. And not just fucking or some shit like that, but a real something. You know... something like what Quinn and Finn had only without her kind of being a bitch to him and him emotionally fucking Rachel and all that mess. I just mean... you know, like a thing. An exclusive thing." Kurt blinked a few times, his head tilting to the side a little, eyebrows knitting together.

"Are you asking me out? Like... to be your b-boyfriend?" Kurt had never said the word out loud in terms of himself and someone else. It made his throat feel kind of dry and his heart hammer in his chest. Like maybe he'd overstepped some invisible boundary and now Puck was going to leave because how dare he utter the "b-word". But none of it happened. Puck gave him a lopsided little grin and shrugged a bit.

"Yeah, yeah I guess that's what I'm doing. Like I said, I'm kind of shit with words. So... yeah, I'm asking you to be my boyfriend. Which sounds fucking weird but... I kind of like it." He said the word like he was tasting something new. Speaking it slowly, tasting it on his tongue and Kurt watched as Puck's eyes lit up a little in satisfaction. He couldn't believe it. It was just way too good to be true. Way too weird to be true. Finn addresses his crush, freaks out and calls him names. Puck returns his crush and wants to be his boyfriend? He took in a deep breath and felt it catch, had to swallow hard at the sweet look Puck was giving him.

"Your cheeks are all red. You totally weren't expecting this at all, were you?" Kurt choked out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head.

"N-no. I can honestly say I was not expecting this even for a second." They were silent a moment, Kurt focusing on the way that Puck's hands slid back and forth over his waist, his thumbs occasionally brushing over his hip bones, swaying their bodies back and forth a little.

"So...? What do you say? I know... I haven't exactly given you a reason to not think I'm shitting you but... I can be a good guy if I try to be. I mean... ask my sister. Sometimes I'm totally awesome to her. It's just a lot of effort to always be nice, but I totally will be an awesome boyfriend and I won't fuck around on you, partly because I know both you and Santana would totally murder me but also 'cause I don't really even want to. And... yeah, so what do you say?"

Kurt wanted to just blurt out yes and possibly demand Puck take him now, but figured he probably should tread lightly. The older teen wasn't exactly known for being trustworthy. But then again, everyone thought Finn was the trustworthy one so maybe they had it backwards all along. Kurt had to be sure that he wasn't going to get himself into another mess like he already had.

"One thing; I don't half ass things, Puckerman. If... if you actually want to be my b-boyfriend then... then we have to go public. I'm not going to be a secret while you work through a sexual identity crisis." Puck huffed a little, cocking an eyebrow, a slight frown on his lips.

"I don't do secret shit. That's fucking messy. And I wouldn't go through all this trouble for something like that anyways. If I'm asking you to be with Puckzilla, you're _with_ Puckzilla and everyone fucking knows it. Because people should know that I'll fuck them up if they mess with you anymore. That includes Golden boy." He moved his hand, cupping Kurt's cheek and caressing his jaw just barely with his thumb.

"I'm serious about this, Kurt. Okay?" Kurt smiled despite himself, felt his cheeks flush bright red and nodded, looking down as he leaned a little into the jock's hand.

"Yeah... yeah, alright. I guess I should at least give you a chance. You did get that busted lip because of me." Puck smirked a little, leaning in to press a kiss against Kurt's lips, just enough pressure to make the younger teen's breath hitch.

"Damn straight, I did." He growled against the kiss. "And I think I deserve a thank you." His hands moved back to Kurt's waist and pulled him closer, nipping just enough at the younger teen's lip to make his knees go weak and-oh, yes-Kurt could get used to this.

Later, when Puck was chilling in his room after hanging out at Kurt's for a couple hours watching a movie (read: making out while a movie played in the background), he heard his phone go off and grabbed it with out even glancing down at who was calling.

"Sup?"

"So... did you finally grow a pair? Or will you be coming in to school with your tail between your legs." Puck grinned at Santana's tone, leaning back in his computer chair.

"Let's just say that Puckarone is no long on the market." He heard her laugh, which she never did when he called himself one of his self-given nicknames.

"Good job, Puckerman. Wasn't sure you had it in you. But... I've got to say I'm pretty happy for you. And it's all thanks to my brilliance so just remember that at your big gay wedding."

"Whatever, Lopez. Just remember that we're both teenage dudes. I'm going to be having more sex than you and Brittany combined."

"Two months, Puckerman! I told you two months!" He snickered.

"Yeah, we'll see, bitch. You can't control Puckasaurous. This is beyond your talons." He could practically hear her roll her eyes.

"Whatever. Word from the wise? Bring him a coffee tomorrow. Little bit of milk, two sugars, he might even jump you in the hallway after." Puck hummed a little, nodding a little to himself

"Thanks, Lopez. You know... not just about the coffee thing."

"Yeah, yeah. Just good to know how right I am... but come on, don't get too gay and good feeling on me. Go cry to your boyfriend now, instead." He'd have flipped her off if she were there, but just settled on a laugh instead.

"Night, Santana. Don't wet your bed dreaming of Brittany!" And with a click, he hung up, knowing she'd never shut up if he let her. Especially now that she'd had a hand in him getting a boyfriend.

Puck grinned, leaning back a little more in his chair. Boyfriend. Yeah... that might have sounded a little gay, but Puck knew he'd be the most badass boyfriend ever that it wouldn't even matter. And with that, he pushed himself up, intent on telling his mom to leave some extra coffee in the pot tomorrow morning.


End file.
